


And we'll talk in present tenses

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Breakfast, Domesticity, Established Relationship, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky likes lazy mornings with Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And we'll talk in present tenses

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [**this lovely Steve/Bucky fanart**](http://nicholya-arden.deviantart.com/art/Morning-at-the-Avengers-s-257639720) by [**nicholya-arden**](http://nicholya-arden.deviantart.com). Title from Joni Mitchell.

Bucky wakes to the sound of the coffee grinder, and follows the noise and the scent of freshly ground coffee into the kitchen, where Steve's pouring near-boiling water into the French press. They have a fancy coffee maker that even steams milk when Steve wants a cappuccino, but most mornings, neither of them can be bothered with it. Since Steve likes the familiarity of the French press and Bucky likes the coffee that results, it's a win all around. 

The papers are sitting on the edge of the table, which is already set with two places, so Bucky gets the orange juice from the fridge and pours some for Steve and some for himself. He drains half a glass, savoring the sweetness and the pulp, and refills it. Sometimes he still misses the old days, when he thought he understood the world and his place in it, but the future has its bright spots, and readily available fresh-squeezed orange juice is one of them.

Still, though, he needs his coffee. He can be up and alert in ten seconds when he's on a mission, but at home, his brain doesn't start working until the caffeine hits his bloodstream. He clutches his mug tightly and gives Steve a pleading look. Steve laughs and fills the mug. Bucky closes his eyes and inhales the rich, heady scent of it, waiting for it to cool off enough to drink. He's burned his tongue too many times to rush it when he doesn't have to. It's one of the few places he exercises caution.

The toaster pops then, so Bucky turns his attention to buttering the English muffins while Steve starts cooking the eggs.

They move together easily, stepping around each other as they get breakfast ready in a dance that was old and familiar before they went off to war.

The coffee's cool enough to drink now, so Bucky sits down at the table and starts drinking it; he munches on an English muffin in between sips, and then sits back so Steve can slide some scrambled eggs onto his plate.

Cooking done, Steve finally sits down and starts eating, and they're both quiet for a while, the only noise the sound of their forks against their plates. Bucky finishes first; he eats with the same ferocity Steve does, as if on some level they both fear the food will be taken away if they don't shove it in their mouths as quickly as possible, but he doesn't have the same capacity (which is good, because he also doesn't have the same superfast metabolism).

The kitchen windows face east, so pale yellow early spring sunshine fills the room and makes Steve's hair shine like a halo. Bucky gets caught staring at him when he looks up. 

"What? Do I have shmutz on my face?" He dabs at his mouth with his thumb, and Bucky leans in to press a kiss to the spot.

"No, you're just--" He waves a hand. "You look good."

Steve goes a little pink. "Thanks. You, too."

Bucky snorts, because he knows his hair looks like birds have been nesting in it, and his eyes are still crusty with sleep, but warmth blooms in his chest anyway. They're still getting used to this part of things--not much has changed now that they're sleeping together, but it's still a pleasant surprise to be able to exchange affectionate words and touches without worrying about getting caught or worse. The best of the future's perks, in Bucky's opinion, right up there with Steve's presence in the first place.

Since Steve cooked, when they're done eating, Bucky clears the dishes away and loads the dishwasher, always a little amazed at the luxury they live in now, but glad he doesn't have to do the dishes by hand. Steve doesn't mind it--says it gives him time to think--but the only chore Bucky likes less is scrubbing the bathtub.

Steve is absorbed in the Times when Bucky's done, so he sits down again and picks up the Bugle. Normally, he'd start with the sports pages, but he flips to the Op-Ed page first, because Steve's been waging a letter-writing campaign against J. Jonah Jameson for the past few weeks, not that any of the letters have seen print yet. 

"Anything?" Steve asks.

"Nope." Bucky gives him an apologetic grin and a half-shrug. "Maybe you should go on Rachel Maddow after all."

Steve hums noncommittally and trades the Metro section for Arts, so Bucky goes back to reading about the Yankees.

"Looks like Warren's out for the next six weeks," he says, the questionable joy of schadenfreude warming his heart. Not that he wishes injuries on the players, but it's always nice when the Yankees lose.

"Why are you reading about the Yankees?"

"It's more entertaining than reading about the Mets," Bucky answers. 

Steve rolls his eyes. "So's root canal."

Bucky snorts and trades the Bugle for the Wall Street Journal. The next time he looks up--after another insufferable editorial about the mounting mutant menace--Steve has put aside his paper and is sketching on a napkin. Bucky puts down his own paper to lean over and peek, and finds his own face staring back at him. Steve looks up and Bucky raises an eyebrow.

"My boyfriend," Steve says with a fond smile. 

"Sure is a handsome devil," Bucky says.

Steve's smile widens into a grin. "He seems to think so."

Bucky taps his foot against Steve's under the table and leans in for a real kiss this time, teasing at the seam of Steve's lips with his tongue until Steve opens his mouth. He grabs Steve's shoulder (his t-shirt is too tight to get a satisfactory grip on) and climbs into Steve's lap. Steve combs a hand through Bucky's hair, making him shiver and press closer. He slides his mouth down along Bucky's jaw and throat, and Bucky rolls his hips, already half-hard, whole body lighting up with anticipation.

"Why don't we take this back to bed?" Steve murmurs against his ear. 

"Sounds good to me," Bucky replies, levering himself up and tugging Steve with him so they can make their slow, haphazard trek to the bedroom, kissing all the way. Lazy mornings with Steve are the best, Bucky thinks, as they tumble back into bed.

end


End file.
